The clouds are gathering, marring the moon
Which glows in full, illuminating the room...
***Back in the 70's .. a movie was made , adapted...
-Johnny Got His Gun...
Shield me with all twisted moments,
lets drink blood from the silver chalices...
Demons in my head
just keep ripping away...
Anger, lust, envy, bitterness, and greed
All the repugnant sins that make us bleed...
Their quick cheap laughs deserve no spade
Their shallow graves of lowest grade...
No angels are present here,
Only the presence of fear...
I love the repetition of 'make me' and 'perfect...
Spinning dreams akin the spider
skillfully weaving a home...
Clinging onto a fragile existence,
Begging God to forgive many sins...
Holding in the tears,
As I stare into my porcelain sanctuary...
I am your nightmare
You feel so much shame...